


With the Thorns Underneath

by wllw



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Blood, F/M, Femdom, Knifeplay, Light Bondage, Master/Servant, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22376224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wllw/pseuds/wllw
Summary: Loopholes in the supernatural definition of virginity aren't going to exploit themselves. Good thing Integra has a few hours to spare, a drawer full of interesting toys, and a very eager vampire servant.
Relationships: Alucard/Integra Hellsing
Comments: 14
Kudos: 125
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	With the Thorns Underneath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Firestorm717](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firestorm717/gifts).



It was sunset when he answered her summons. The sun burned red over the horizon, the shadows of her bedroom were growing long, and Integra's day was only getting started. Like the monsters she hunted, she'd become a creature of the night. Perhaps some might have found it poetic.

A soft knock came from the door. It had startled her, the first few times, more than her vampire materialising from the shadows ever had. Alucard did not, generally, condescend to interact with doors in ways that didn't involve hails of gunfire. But not here. He always entered his master's domain with reverence.

"Good evening." Her servant stepped into her room, closing the door quietly behind him. "My master."

"Good evening, Alucard." She didn't move from where she sat comfortably on her armchair, her legs spread before her, papers in one hand and her cigar in the other. "You know, I've been meaning to ask. Are you quite all right? I thought you considered the proper use of doors to be beneath you."

A grin from the shadows. "Maybe I'm just trying to keep you on your toes."

She snorted. "You hardly need to. The council seems to be doing a perfectly good job of it on their own, today. Their objections to our budget are becoming more and more inventive by the month." She tossed the offending papers aside with disdain. "I shudder to imagine what they'll come up with by the end of the year."

Alucard drifted closer, silently, circling her like a predator. "Meddling little pests," he purred. "I could kill them for you, master. Paint your bed with their blood and bring their heads to you as a tribute. Just give me the order. Command me like the weapon I am."

Integra felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Settle down, Alucard. That's not why I called you here tonight." She took a long drag on her cigar, breathed out, and watched the smoke disperse in the dimming light. "Though I may have to bring you to the next meeting. They're always so much more obliging after an hour or so of you grinning at them."

She enjoyed it on occasion, watching them squirm before her. They always were happy to have her use the power she commanded for their purposes, but flinched when faced with the reality of it.

Integra had never feared her servant's power. Not even when she'd been a girl. Why should she, any more than she feared her gun or her sword?

"Ah. Show off your faithful attack dog to intimidate all who dare question you." Alucard stepped forward until he stood looming before her. "Van Helsing used to show me off, too. To small, private parties for select audiences whose funding he was courting." He sank to his knees to rest his head on her lap. "'Come see the modern marvel, the triumph of humanity, the tame vampire.'"

Integra ran her fingers through the messy mop of Alucard's hair. It always felt so smooth in her hand, almost unnaturally so. She took another drag on her cigar; the languid warmth of it spread through her, settling pleasantly between her legs. "Does it bother you?" she asked. "To have been tamed so thoroughly?"

"There are worse things to be."

"I imagine you'd know."

The flash of razor-sharp teeth would have been menacing to anyone else, but Alucard was leaning into her touch, pliant and obedient in her hands. "You are cruel tonight, my master."

Integra did smile, this time. "Don't tell me you don't like it."

"I'd never dream of lying to you."

"I know." She loosened her belt, then grabbed his hair and jerked his head back roughly. He let her manhandle him without protest. "Off with your clothes."

Alucard's eyes glowed bright with glee in the falling darkness. His form exploded into a tangle of creeping shadows, and when it reformed itself he was kneeling naked between her legs, looking up at her with a mad grin on his face as if to challenge her not to recoil at the sight of his obvious inhumanity. Or, more likely, revelling in the fact that she didn't. Integra reached over to flip on the lights, noting with satisfaction his minute flinch when the brightness flooded the room, then turned to give her servant her full attention. She raked her eyes over his lean figure, smooth skin, and sharp features, and his cock, hardening against his thigh. He was handsome, her vampire, and it would have been easy to pretend that was all there was to him. But his grin was sharp, his eyes those of a wolf in the darkness of the forest.

Good. Integra wasn't looking to pretend he wasn't what he was.

She pulled her glove off with her teeth, and slipped her hand down her pants. She was already wet—she had been since before calling him here. She kept her touch light, unhurried. There was no need to rush, after all. She was planning to indulge herself this evening.

"Do you enjoy this, master?" Alucard whispered. "Having your deadliest weapon laid bare before you? Is it the knowledge of the blood I shed in your name that makes yours boil?"

His voice was a soft, dark purr, and it would be so easy to lean back, close her eyes, and lose herself in it, if she were to let herself. Instead, she planted her foot firmly on his shoulder and pushed him down.

"Don't play your games with me, servant, or I'll leave you here unsatisfied. You know I've no patience for them."

Alucard laughed, his eyes twinkling, but he inclined his head in submission. "As you say, master."

She returned her cigar to her lips, focused on the feel of it in her mouth as she stroked herself. Her servant's intent gaze never left her.

"Order me to touch you, master," he said, because he never knew how to keep that damn mouth of his shut. "Order me to use my tongue on you. I am your willing servant—use me as you will."

Her hand had sped up without her realising it, rubbing tight circles around her clit. The room was becoming warm, and she was suddenly, achingly aware of the feel of her finely tailored suit on her skin, heavy and restricting. She slowed her breathing, forced her muscles to relax. Her servant's voice was rough with hunger, his eyes bright like hellfire. How many of Hellsing's foes had died looking up at those eerie red irises?

"Let these bloodstained hands bring you as much pleasure as they bring others pain. Let me kneel at your feet and prove my devotion in your bedroom just as I do on the battlefield."

Ever since she'd been thirteen, Integra had dreamt of blood, and screams, and of red, malevolent eyes watching her from the shadows. They were never nightmares. The blood and the screams were her enemies', and the eyes followed her in utter, breathtaking worship. The shadows bowed to her when she turned to them.

She shivered in pleasure.

Enough. She needed more. Wanted more. She pushed him away and he fell back obediently.

"You talk too much, Alucard."

Briefly, she entertained the thought of tying him to the legs of her desk and taking him there on the floor. The idea certainly had its appeal. But her knees would protest the rough treatment, even if her servant didn't.

"Get up," she commanded. "Lie on the bed, and don't move."

He smiled as he complied.

Integra finished her cigar, drawing it out just long enough to make him restless; then she stood and walked over to the bedside where he waited for her. She stripped slowly and methodically, without giving him a show. She removed her remaining glove and placed it on her nightstand, undid her cravat, took off her suit jacket and folded it carefully. Her movements were casual, as if he weren't there. His gaze burned into her, bright and intense, and she smiled. She slipped out of her trousers and pants but left her shirt on, still buttoned.

Alucard licked his lips. "Will you grant me the honour of tasting you, my master?"

"No, my servant. I have different plans for tonight."

Her nightstand had a drawer, safely locked so that the staff wouldn't open it. She rooted through it until she found what she wanted, held it out for her servant to see, and watched the mad grin of delight split his face.

"Ah, excellent! I have been known to enjoy a spot of impalement on occasion."

She laughed despite herself, almost fumbling with the straps. "You know, there are times you should count yourself very lucky I don't decide to have you locked up in the basement again."

"You'd miss me if you did."

"We all have our faults to overcome."

She pulled the harness snug around her hips and tensed with pleasure as she slid the toy firmly between her legs. She slipped her trousers back on, and then, finally, she turned to stand before him in all her glory, her fake cock jutting out proudly.

"You're magnificent, my master." The hunger in his eyes might have seemed threatening to anyone else. "Many would kill to lay eyes on such a sight."

She loosened the collar button of her dress shirt. "Including you?"

"Of course. If you were to order it."

Her servant lay on her bed and looked up at her in reverence, his head surrounded by a tangle of pitch back hair like an unholy halo, splayed out on her lavish white bedsheets for her to enjoy. And, oh, she was planning to enjoy him. She took her time straddling him, running her palms all over his hips, his chest, his neck. His skin was like ice against hers, smooth and cold. "Master," he murmured, but she shushed him with a finger on his lips.

She ran her hands down his arms, along the lean muscles that belied his true strength. He'd kept his gloves as always, and Integra took a moment to trace the lines on them, the symbol of her vampire's servitude, before pulling his arms over his head, sliding her silk cravat around his wrists, and binding them tightly to the headboard. He twisted his forearms in his restraints with a low, dark laugh.

"Really, now, master. Do you think such flimsy bonds will hold me?"

"Yes, servant." Integra cupped his cheek, roughly. "I rather think that they will."

She felt him quiver under her palm. It was a lovely sight, the blood red fabric cutting into her servant's pale skin.

"Now, what shall I do with you?"

"I want to bleed for you, my master," Alucard said, breathlessly. "I bleed for you every night, at the hands of your enemies. Let me shed my blood in your bed, at yours."

He was looking up at her in supplication and—oh, that sent a throb of pleasure through her. Integra ran her fingers through his hair and smiled down at him. "That can be arranged."

There were other things in her locked nightstand drawer. One was a dagger; a dozen blessings coursed through its silver blade, melted down from a holy cross. An heirloom inherited from her father. Not enough to damage Alucard, of course, not seriously, but enough to make him feel it. She held it in her hand, let the light glint off its blade. Alucard's eyes followed her every movement, raw anticipation on his face.

"Such lovely weapons your father left you."

"Yes," Integra said, almost fondly, caressing her servant's unmoving chest. "Yes, he did."

She brought her blade down onto his skin.

He gasped and squirmed as she cut into his flesh, until she grabbed him roughly by the hair and forced his head back. "Stay still," she whispered in his ear. His grin only widened, but he obeyed, lying back and struggling not to move as Integra continued her work. It was breathtaking, at times, to see the level of control she had over him. Blood trickled down his chest to stain her white sheets bright red in a stunning contrast. She'd have to make him clean up after himself, later, but for now she let herself enjoy the sight, and the tingles of pleasure it sent running down her skin.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes—ah— _yes_."

Alucard trembled beneath her as she cut. She didn't spare a glance at his face—too focused on the smooth slide of her blade across his skin and the bright red trail it left behind—but she could feel his gaze burning into her. The heat of it spread through her, throbbing almost painfully between her legs, but she kept her hand steady until she was finished, then leaned back to examine her work. Two concentric circles and an inscribed pentagram with five arcane symbols between its points. She didn't have the patience for the writing or the finer details, but the figure was still a familiar sight, and she watched as Alucard's eyes widened in recognition. She ran her hand along the sigil, pressed down ruthlessly on the wounds, and almost shivered when he jolted under her palm. He was fully hard, now.

"Ah—you truly are cruel tonight, master."

"I thought you might approve."

"I do. Oh, I _do_ ," he breathed, his voice still unsteady. He grinned up at her, spreading his thighs and tilting his hips up obligingly as she moved to position herself between his legs. "Now, are you ready to plunge your stake into your vampire?"

Integra snorted. "I was, but now I'm considering leaving you here tied to the bed."

"I'd stay, if you wanted it." She rocked her hips and he gasped as her cock slid against his. "But—aah—that wouldn't be much fun for you, would it?"

"Hm. I suppose not."

Integra took a strand of his hair between her fingers, playing with it idly. Longer than it had been a few minutes ago. His control over his physical form always wavered when he got too excited. For an instant she toyed with the idea of being gentle, if only to see the frustration shining in his lovely red eyes, but she discarded it quickly. Neither of them were meant for tenderness. She would not play at romance like the dewy-eyed child she'd never been.

She moved quickly and decisively, taking him in one deep, powerful thrust.

Alucard threw his head back with a gasp, and she gave him no time to adjust before she began to move with quick, harsh jerks of her hips. He was tight around her, and the resistance made the toy rub against her all the more pleasantly. It had to hurt like this, without any sort of preparation, and the thought made her breath quicken, made the heat spread through her body. She ran a hand down his abdomen; he twitched as her fingertips brushed against his cock.

"Yes—yes, master, please—"

She planted her hand on his bloodied chest and dug her nails in. "You're shameless."

"Oh, but what do I have to be ashamed about?"

"I won't dignify that with an answer." Mostly because it didn't deserve one, but also because she had better things to do with her breath. Such as adjust her position so she could take him deeper, brace her hands on each side of his chest, and set a steady, relentless rhythm with her thrusts. He hitched his legs further up to wrap them around her, panting even though he didn't need to breathe. He was beautiful like this, naked and spread out for her, surrendering to her as he did for no one else. Her body had been aching for this all evening, and the friction of each thrust made her burn with pleasure.

For a second she closed her eyes and listened to the pained, shameless sounds she was drawing from him. Then she opened them again to watch him twist and squirm beneath her, straining against his bonds. He'd turned his head to the side, eyes shut. Almost gently, she reached out to caress his cheek, tilting his face so that he was looking up at her.

"Command me, master," he gasped. "Order me to please you, to hurt myself, to do anything you want, and I'll do it gladly."

"Because you want it, or because I do?"

"What's the difference?"

And—there was so much in that; it made her breath quicken, the tension build inside her. She scrabbled at the bedsheets for the knife she'd discarded, closed her fingers around its hilt, and plunged it into his unbeating heart.

Alucard stiffened with a strangled cry. How lovely a sight he made—a vain, cruel, deadly creature utterly and completely under her heel. The greatest of all monsters, at her mercy and happy to be there. Integra fucked him as he came, writhing under her.

When he began to whimper, she finally took mercy on him. For a second she stilled, resting her forehead on his chest, feeling the coolness of his skin against hers, breathing hard. Then she pulled out, quickly and unceremoniously, relishing the small gasp she drew from his lips. Her body was tight with tension; her fingers felt clumsy as she pulled down her trousers to fumble with the straps, and it was a good thing Alucard was too dazed to tease her because—ah, there, she found the final latch and flung the toy away.

She straddled him, raked her fingers across the bloody mess on his stomach and chest, grasped a fistful of his hair, and wrenched his head back. He bared his neck for her and she bit down hard, sucking on his skin as she darted her free hand to rub herself between her legs. She was close, so close—she could feel the blood pulsing through her veins, and she knew that he could too.

"Master," Alucard breathed, and when she raised her head he was looking up at her as if she were the god he'd once forsaken. The imprints of her teeth were evident against the deathly pallor of his skin, and what a rush it was to know that she, the mere human that she was and always had been, could take him apart, break him, destroy him so thoroughly with only her hands and her will. That she could do it whether or not he wanted it, and that, despite that, he _did_.

"You're mine," she growled against his neck. " _My_ vampire."

"Yes. Yes, my master. I'm yours. Your weapon to take apart and put back together at your leisure. Your monster to do as you will with." Alucard's voice was a hoarse whisper, and she came, muffling her cries behind gritted teeth as she trembled in pleasure.

Once the aftershocks began to fade, she slumped beside him. The tension drained from her, leaving a pleasant, comfortable weariness. She lay there, calming her breathing, and when she opened her eyes her vampire was watching her drowsily with his blood red eyes. Idly, she brushed her fingertips along the cuts on his chest, the symbol of the blood bond that sealed him to her. It still hadn't healed, even though she'd seen him regenerate from much worse much faster.

"I'll always be yours," Alucard murmured as she slid the knife out of his chest.

"I know." She cradled his head in her arms. Then, on a whim, she asked, "Do you ever regret it?"

"Thinking I should want to be set free, master?" Alucard laughed, burying his face into the crook of her arm. There was something odd in his voice, but Integra couldn't quite tell what it was. "I do believe that a somewhat famous work of classic literature has been written as to why I shouldn't be."

"Yes, and I've read it. You didn't answer my question. Do you regret it?"

He pressed closer and bared his teeth against her shirt. "No," he said, with a forcefulness that surprised even her. " _Never_."

Integra closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it slowly out. For a few moments, she lay still, feeling the pressure of his cold body against hers. Then she pushed him away. "Good," she said, and reached over for a cigar. She cut off the end, lit it, took a deep drag, and lay back. Alucard watched her languidly; like this, calm and docile, he seemed almost harmless. Integra knew better, of course.

"So," she said after some deliberation, "did you enjoy your impalement? Was it good enough to raise the dead?"

He broke into a delighted grin. "Why, master, I thought you considered such things beneath you!"

She blew smoke in his face.

For a while they lay there, side by side. The night was quiet and still. It was only an illusion, Integra knew. She was intimately familiar with the sort of things that hid in its darkness. Soon, there would be more work for her to do, more foes for Hellsing to face. But, for now, she could lean back and enjoy her cigar in peace.

Enjoy the weight of her servant on her bed beside her.

Eventually, she stirred. She put out her cigar and looked down at herself. She'd got blood all over her fine suit. Ah, well. Some sacrifices had to be made in the line of duty. Leisurely, she reached over to undo his bonds and ran her cravat through her fingers. Still intact.

"You did well. It seems I won't have to punish you tonight."

"Ah. A shame. Maybe next time I'll disobey you, then."

Integra ran a finger along the lines on his chest, sticky with blood. "No. You won't."

"No," Alucard said, smiling and burying his face against her neck and not biting—never biting. "I won't."


End file.
